The Garden of Peace is a network of Gardens of Peace: real, visitable places where the olive tree becomes a shared language for dialogue, sustainability, and responsibility toward the territory.

The aim is not to add a “monument”, but to build a readable landscape: a place you can walk through, care for, and observe, where coexistence is visible even before it is explained.

Each garden is designed for citizens, schools, and public institutions: peace not as a slogan, but as a daily practice measured in the care of a shared place.

Paciano, a small town in Umbria overlooking Lake Trasimeno, is the source of the project: here the first Garden of Peace connects local history, agricultural landscape, and community.

This first garden is not an endpoint, but a starting model: it shows that even a small municipality can generate an international network if the message is clear and consistent over time.

Paciano remains an ethical and narrative reference, not an “owner” of the project: the purpose is to share a method and open it to other territories.

Janus Bifrons represents a threshold: one gaze toward the past and one toward the future. In the project it reminds us that peace grows from holding memory and transformation together.

In the garden, this becomes a rule: safeguarding the history of places without freezing them, allowing new relationships between territories, communities, and generations.

The garden is therefore a “gateway”: it does not celebrate nostalgia; it helps us imagine how territories can change while staying faithful to their roots.

The olive tree traces a natural geography made of mountains, coasts, plains, islands, inland areas, and cities. The project chooses to follow these landscapes rather than political borders.

When a State is mentioned, it is only as a technical reference for the variety’s area of origin. The main narrative focuses on continents and territories of diffusion.

This makes it possible to include complex contexts without reducing them to a flag, and to show how olive routes have crossed cultures, languages, and borders over time.

The Garden of Peace is designed to engage with cities, schools, foundations, and communities across different continents. The model is unique, but each garden is rooted in a specific territory.

A global dimension does not mean “replicating the same image everywhere”, but building a network of coherent places that preserve local identity.

This enables concrete comparison between territories—about environmental, educational, and cultural choices each one is facing.

It is a physical, accessible place that can be visited in every season. Trees grow, change, and need care: the message is not abstract—it is embodied in the landscape.

Panels and plaques help visitors interpret what they see: varieties, territories, olive routes, and links with the communities who care for them.

Credibility comes from time: an inauguration is a beginning, not an end. Peace is measured in the continuity of shared care.

Each garden is a node in an international network: it keeps its identity, but shares a common model, values, and interpretive tools.

The network enables exchanges between schools, public institutions, and communities: twinnings, educational projects, and joint activities around environmental and social themes.

In this way, peace is not only a word—it becomes concrete cooperation between territories that recognize themselves as interconnected.

The olive tree is an ancient, resilient plant, present in many religious and cultural traditions as a symbol of peace, wisdom, and resilience.

In the project it becomes a geographic language: by following its varieties, we can read climates, soils, landscapes, and histories of human migration.

It is a simple but non-trivial symbol: each territory interprets it differently, and that diversity is precisely the core of the project’s message of coexistence.

Schools and citizens are not spectators—they are custodians of the garden. Their participation is essential to turn an idea into daily practice.

For schools, the garden is an open-air laboratory where geography, science, history, art, and citizenship intersect.

For citizens, it is a space for meeting and shared responsibility: a place to care for something that belongs to everyone.

The first step is always a clear question: which people and institutions are ready to care for a garden over time?

From there, a project is built that integrates physical space, community, educational aims, and sustainable management.

TGoP guidelines help verify whether conditions exist to join the network, staying consistent with the 21-variety model and the project’s principles.

The 21 varieties are not a random collection: they were selected because, together, they represent the main areas where the olive tree is found around the world.

Each tree corresponds to an emblematic territory: coasts, elevations, inland zones, islands, rural and urban landscapes.

The garden thus becomes a living map: the coexistence of different varieties in the same soil reflects the coexistence of different territories on a shared planet.

Each tree is linked to a real ecosystem: it does not represent a State, but a specific landscape with its climate, geography, and social context.

Information on the plaque helps read that relationship: origin, continent, territories of diffusion, and adaptations.

This turns the garden into a tool for geographic and environmental education, accessible even to non-specialists.

The State is indicated only as a technical reference for the area where the variety is considered native. It links the garden to scientific literature and germplasm catalogues.

However, the main narrative focuses on the continent and territories of diffusion, which better describe the olive tree’s real life across the world.

This balance keeps scientific rigor without turning the garden into a parade of flags.

Plants come from major Olive Germplasm Banks and from nurseries working with certified material.

This ensures correct variety identification, traceability, and phytosanitary safety—an essential requirement for a public, replicable project.

Controlled provenance is therefore an integral part of the model’s credibility.

RESGEN is an International Olive Council programme on olive genetic resources that contributed to cataloguing and comparing varieties internationally.

Referencing this experience signals that the garden model is built in dialogue with research, not as an isolated initiative.

For non-specialists, one message is enough: variety choices are based on knowledge and verification, not only on aesthetics.

Each plant is accompanied by provenance documentation and phytosanitary controls, in accordance with the host country’s regulations.

This reduces the risk of introducing pathogens or non-compliant material and makes the garden reliable for schools, visitors, and institutions.

Traceability is also a form of respect for the represented territories: what is declared must match what is planted.

Entrance panels explain the project and the 21-variety model. Tree plaques connect the variety to territories and continents.

They go beyond the botanical name: they help visitors understand that each tree represents a part of the world and a specific way of living the landscape.

This turns the visit into a reading journey, not just a walk.

Because the garden brings together places that are far apart on a map, yet here stand side by side.

The map is “living” because it grows, changes with the seasons, and responds to the climate conditions of the host site.

The coexistence of varieties becomes a metaphor for coexistence between communities and territories.

Yes. Today the olive tree is present in many non-Mediterranean areas: the Americas, Southern Africa, Australia, New Zealand, the Middle East, and parts of Asia.

The model is designed to engage with these territories, provided a suitable site is chosen and basic agronomic conditions are respected.

In non-traditional contexts, the garden adds value: it shows how a Mediterranean plant can become a bridge between different climates and cultures.

The 21 varieties offer a natural atlas: students and citizens can “travel” across continents without leaving the site, following olive routes.

The model supports discussion about climate change, migration, agricultural choices, and biodiversity protection through concrete examples.

The living map helps people understand that each territory is connected to others—and that local decisions can have global effects.

Because it makes real coexistence visible: different varieties in the same soil, different communities around the same place.

Here peace is not an abstraction, but a practice: organizing activities, sharing rules, and caring for a common space.

The garden reminds us that peace is built through repeated actions over time, not only through statements.

It means the garden exists before and after official events: it must be accessible, cared for, and integrated into the life of the territory.

A real place forces coherence: if abandoned, the message empties; if cared for, it becomes credible.

The difference from a communication campaign is precisely this continuity.

Many territories linked to the varieties have known conflicts, migrations, and social fractures. The olive tree has followed those routes together with people.

The garden does not erase wounds, but invites us to look at them with a perspective that can also recognize possibilities for reconciliation.

The message is sober: peace is not the absence of problems, but a choice of mutual care despite past conflicts.

Climate crisis, biodiversity loss, and environmental inequalities generate tension and instability. Caring for territories is also working for peace.

The garden shows that territories are interdependent: what happens in one ecosystem affects others, often far away.

Here peace is also prevention: building balance, not exhausting resources until they become a source of conflict.

Because it allows people to experience coexistence dynamics on a small scale: shared rules, care for the common good, and respect for differences.

For schools the garden is an open-air classroom; for citizens a meeting space; for institutions a test bench for territorial policies.

These levels coexist in one place—this is what makes the garden a laboratory.

Guided visits, thematic routes on territories, workshops on soil, water, climate, biodiversity, landscape reading, memory, and rights.

Activities can be simple (for families and primary school) or more structured (for citizenship projects and international routes).

One criterion remains: start from the experience of the place and do not turn the garden into an outdoor lecture hall.

A garden needs years to grow: its strength is precisely this long time, which requires continuity and collaboration.

Memory is built through repetition: returning to the same place, seeing trees change, remembering why they were planted.

Peace, in this sense, is the ability to keep a commitment beyond the short cycle of events.

Each garden is connected with other gardens worldwide: exchanges, twinnings, shared projects, comparisons about environmental and social policies.

Dialogue is not only symbolic: it can become collaboration between schools, public institutions, cultural centres, and associations.

In this sense, the local garden becomes a gateway to a global territory.

Public institutions guarantee space, management, and integration into public policies; communities give life to the place through care and participation.

Without this alliance, the garden risks being a showcase operation; with it, it becomes a common good.

The project insists on clear roles precisely to avoid ambiguity and abandonment over time.

Coherence is ensured through the 21-variety model, shared guidelines, and common criteria for using the name and logo.

At the same time, each garden interprets the model in dialogue with its territory: landscape, history, community, and cultural vocations.

The result is a network where identity is recognizable but not uniform: a balance between project integrity and responsible freedom.

Municipalities, cities, schools, universities, foundations, associations, and civic entities working on peace, environment, and rights can propose one.

The essential condition is readiness to ensure management and care over time, not only to organize the inauguration.

The strongest proposals arise from local alliances: administration, school, and civil society sharing goals and responsibilities.

The 21-variety model, panels and plaques that make the garden readable, spaces for educational activities and public use.

Without these, the garden risks becoming a themed green area rather than a node of the TGoP network.

Additional elements (art, installations, special routes) are possible, as long as they respect the project’s overall meaning.

Territories are identified from the varieties’ areas of origin and diffusion, prioritizing real ecosystems and emblematic landscapes.

The aim is to offer a credible map of the olive tree’s presence worldwide, without forcing or geopolitical simplifications.

The selection is periodically reviewed in the light of new scientific and geographic knowledge.

Plants come from certified and traceable sources, with phytosanitary controls compliant with the host country’s regulations.

Any substitutions or integrations are assessed jointly so as not to alter the model and the narrative of territories.

This approach reduces agronomic risks and ensures educational and symbolic coherence.

Paths among trees, resting points, areas for educational activities or public events, and access whenever possible for people with reduced mobility.

A large scenic setup is not mandatory: what matters is the quality of the relationship between landscape, community, and educational function.

Each project evaluates how to integrate the garden into the existing system of parks, schools, museums, and cultural spaces.

The garden is governed by principles of environmental protection, respect for human rights, inclusion, and non-discrimination.

It cannot be used for activities or messages that contradict these principles, nor for partisan political campaigns or invasive commercial initiatives.

Conditions for using the TGoP name and logo are regulated through formal agreements to protect the project’s and partners’ reputation.

Unilateral changes to the garden’s structure, variety selection, core signage, and use of the brand are not allowed.

Any significant variation must be shared and assessed to safeguard project coherence and integrity.

This also applies to extraordinary events that could affect the public image of the garden and the network.

Agreements include the possibility to suspend or revoke recognition of a garden as part of the TGoP network.

This protects all other gardens and partners who invest in the project, and prevents distorted uses of the brand.

Revocation is an extreme measure: the primary goal remains dialogue and the search for shared solutions.

Local communities are the garden’s true custodians. Without them, the project remains external, fragile, and easily replaceable.

Involving associations, schools, and informal groups turns the garden into a lived place, not merely a visited one.

In many cases, the community also becomes the main source of ideas for activities, narratives, and educational routes.

The project promotes continuity paths: symbolic tree adoptions, recurring workshops, and international exchange projects linked to represented territories.

Young people are encouraged to consider the garden as their own space—worth defending and interpreting critically.

When new generations enter garden governance, the project’s memory becomes a shared future.